apartment, storyVirginia HartComment

I said farewell to my first big apple apartment last night.

...such a sad little moment.

We have been passing this apartment down over the past few years, but my friends that live there now are moving out and the time has come to say goodbye.

A lot has certainly happened and changed since May 27th, 2007 when my first roommate and I rolled up to our little abode in the West Village. At the time, we had only seen pictures of what we planned on being a one-month sublet.

I'll never forget how she woke me up on the very first night, convincing me I needed to throw something over my pjs because we *needed* to go to a club.

I'll never forget crawling through my neighbor's window and shimmying across the fire escape in a dress and heels after locking myself out.

I'll never forget taking our trash down for the very first time and seeing a mouse and getting so frightened/flustered that I peed my pants.  Yes.  And I'll never forget how my roommate almost choked from laughing so hard.

I'll never forget seeing Sarah Jessica Parker on the sidewalk right outside and nearly passing out when she told me I smelled freshly showered.

I'll never forget sprinting home to tackle my roommate when she called to tell me she was engaged. And I'll never forget crying for a good hour after watching her drive away when she moved out a few months later.

I'll never forget meeting my second roommate for the first time. And how much I needed to meet her in that very moment. ...and how I'm forever indebted to Craigslist.

I'll never forget welcoming my third roommate and her dress-form, "Gladys", from Portland. I'll never forget decorating & crafting, watching her make icing from scratch, or finding the perfect costumes to dress up as Dr. Seuss characters, Thing 1 & Thing 2. And I'll never forget how thankful I am right now that she's still here.

I'll never forget all of the laughter, the tears, the "guess what? I got a job!" squeals, the visitors, the you'll-never-believe-what-happened-today's, the early mornings, the late nights, the inexplicable neighbors, the many different seasons, and the first time it felt like home...

...the first time it snowed.

People and places come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.

May you always be a good home, 270.

until next time,